Rival Minds
by Marley Jones
Summary: Luna Lovegood's diary from her fifth year on. The story, not her diary, jumps back and forth through time.
1. Prologue

The smooth path that lies ahead in my mind hurriedly twists to reveal what the future has in store. Beautiful images of many horizons, move about, littered with life. They pause for me to see a marriage on a cloudy afternoon, adorned with tiny droplets of dew. I see the bride's long golden hair and soft white skin peek from behind a door as she hurries on small bare feet down a roughly cobbled path. She carefully slides into a compact garden house down the sodden path behind the church, just escaping the coming rain. The small room is severely disfigured with the excessive amount of mirrored surfaces, adopted for the countless dress fittings, each side reflects another augmenting the small cavity of a room. She slowly moves through the reflections until, in one mirror, she sees herself, and I see that it's me. I duck from the road, blinded by my persistence in wake of a new light. The harsh pictures formed of what I longed for in the past, are now covered by what longs to be faced, urging forward thoughts and denying me that solace of old memories.

I am fighting to stay away from all that I knew. The bend in the road ahead beckons me to take it, to give into my habit. My thoughts turn sideways as I pass the broken road, succumbing to my desire to turn back and meet my old reality afresh. In my mind, I run down empty corridors, race the staircases, and outwit the phantoms that haunt the empty houses. At night, I prowl amongst the shadows born in the moonlight, tease the paintings in their sleep with thin quills, and tag the dreaming suits of armor. The clocks sing to me as the hour of dawn approaches and I revel in their sounds, rather than in those of distant wedding bells.

I feel ashamed to have dreamt again, not forcing what should be into my mind and leaving it there. What I long for drives my life and fills my heart half way. I understand the life that I have given myself isn't a full one, hardly sustaining what energy I have. And yet I think it impossible to look any other way than into the looking glass and hope to find what I lost nearly eight years ago.

To this day in my 24th year of life, I prefer to live in those memories rather than make new ones. I touch my nose to the silver bowl night after night, hardly finding true rest and comfort there, and yet I stay awake in faded memories rather than sleep with new dreams. It kindly eases my thoughts to know that my memories still exist and that they once were my cool clear reality.

But reality has changed. I'm living in a new world where the earth has flattened with technology, reality is scripted, convenience is the most common necessity, magic has lost it's sense, and I have to conform to survive.


	2. The Unknowing Beginning

Author's note: Writing in quotations is Luna's diary on the day indicated. Unquoted text is the Luna from the prologue.

"11:35 Monday September 1, 1997

It's funny that we document everything. Today magical and technological advances have allowed everyone from governments to single persons to record their actions on paper, film, memory cards, or in the depths of their very own pensive. Ginny told me about diaries, traditionally a muggle practice, but apparently a good outlet for thoughts, feelings, opinions, and excellent practise for handwriting. Although it seems dangerous to put all of those things in one place, Ginny assures me that she never goes near diaries, so I assume most others have the same respect for something so private.

So, here are some of my thoughts, feelings, and opinions (although those three words basically mean the same thing in this context, so they, and the explanation that goes with them, provide good handwriting practice) in my new diary. I thought today would be an excellent time to start, since with the exception of last term and the year before, I have always ridden the train alone, and that provides a good deal of time to write about my expedition to Sweden...

'Hi, Luna. mind if we join you?'

Neville had opened my compartment door and was heading a small crowd of people. Dressed in normal muggle attire (namely, Weasley sweaters), Ginny, Hermione, Neville, and Ronald

lingered outside my compartment until Hermione and Ronald handed Ginny their belongings, said 'Hi, Luna!', and headed towards the prefects compartment. It was strange that Harry was absent; I never would have taken him for a dropout. I suppose everyone has to surprise you somehow.

'God morgon, det spelar ingen roll vilken,' I said to Neville, who took it as a good thing and sat down. Ginny followed awkwardly.

Apparently, Harry had been on a quest of sort for something to do with Godric Griffyndor, or at least it sounded like it. Ginny was in a fair panic after he left the funeral, terrified that he might find it, and also not to pleased that he ended their relationship for it. Oh what AM I saying, this was meant for my life not for prodding in others'."

I remember that day, even though my writing stopped there. Every detail etched in my mind clearly, as if to retain some valuable secret.

After I put away my writing Hermione and Ron came back and as they hurried down the train corridor, The Daily Pophet in Hermione's hand, I could see the anguish in Hermione's eyes. Ron chased after and caught her as she nearly ran out of the back of the train. I silently noted their game and smiled calmly, happy for their passion. Not until long after did I realise the severity of that day.

Her emotions cascaded into Ron's arms and as her breathing grew tremendously, Ron's hands reached her hair, calming her slowly with his patience and warm words. Each sharp intake of breath and grief was felt in the swelling crowd, flooring each student to an incomprehensible level of compassion. Tears tore at the eyes of the strongest rumour and cooled the cheeks of the relentless gossip that had for so long haunted a student's daily life.

Through what could and couldn't be felt, one thing remained certain; this, whatever this was, had marked a new chapter in all of our lives. The consistancy of suspense thickened hartily as the number of Hermione's breaths grew.

She stepped back from him, by this time every compartment emptied and watched the scene eagerly, and as she slowly lifted her hand to Ron, each second filled with tension, and with threats to burst and overflow with anxiety. As Ron unfolded The Daily Prophet, the colour drained from his face. He grabbed her in a new found sympathy and gallant manner. Heavy breaths rose and fell with their hopes and dreams.

The paper lay on the floor, yet hardly forgotten. Read silently the crowd heard these words over endlessly in their minds; a house was attacked the night before, a muggle house. The brazen font lay mocking the emotion promoted by the words' very meaning, as a blatant lie surfaced in the harsh reality of The Prophet's words; a war had started with each person involved beyond repair, yet with out any conviction.

Hermione was shaking, hardly supported by Ron, who was making an awful attempt to comfort her. She was torn in two that day; every fight, every loveless moment gave way to the solid mix of pain and passion. All of the confrontations, the laughs, the humiliation, all of it stopped when Hermione ran down that isle.

I looked up from my copy of The Quibbler to see Neville and Ginny's faces pressed against what window they could still see through. The dominant expression seen amongst the crowd out side of our door was one of sympathy and curiosity. I nudged my way slowly through a dense population of tears and breaths, and as I began to see the emotion stored in the crowd, I thrust my fist down my knapsack to produce the proper medicine and marched right toward Hermione and Ron. My actions were a little out of line, yet my heart was straight on. Ginny followed me, and Neville after her, as a small pain formed in my heart. Offering Hermione my chocolate is one of the best things I've ever done. I truly cannot think of any thing better that I have accomplished. Everything else had been for my benefit somehow, I never thought of my life like that before then, but as I fell to embrace her, I kept some of her pain for myself, forever binding us through loss and love.


End file.
